"Maybe. Guess I'll stop and put one in."
Tom slowed down the motor, and headed his boat over toward shore, intending to tie up there for a while.
As he shifted the wheel he heard a cry behind him, and at the same time a hoarse, domineering voice called out:
"Here, what do you mean, changing your course that way? Look out, or I'll run you down! Get out of my way, you land-lubber, you!"
Startled, Ned and Tom turned. They saw, rushing up on them from astern, a powerful red motor boat, at the wheel of which sat a stout man, with a very florid face and a commanding air.
"Get out of my way!" he cried. "I can't stop so short! Look out, or I'll run you down!"
Tom, with a fierce feeling of resentment at the fellow, was about to shift the course of the Kilo, but he was too late.
A moment later there came a smashing blow on the stern port quarter and the Kilo heeled over at a dangerous angle, while, with a rending, splintering sound of wood, the big red motorboat swept on past Tom and Ned, her rub-streak grinding along the side of the Kilo.
